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Lacey Luzzi Box Set

Page 131

by Gina LaManna


  “Dang,” I said, now holding onto his neck, afraid that if I let go I’d crash to the floor.

  “I’m not going to drop you,” Anthony said. He cinched me tighter. My knees flopped over one of his forearms, his other hand very close to my rear end.

  I was well aware how awkward this looked to an outsider.

  “My, my, what do we have here?” Nora poked her head out of the kitchen and saw the two of us in the hallway. “I heard the commotion and, voila! You two look as if you’re practicing for something.”

  “Uh, what exactly?” I asked.

  “You know...” Nora blinked. “The way he’s carrying you is the way a husband carries his wife over the threshold of their new home.”

  Anthony dropped me so fast I nearly got a concussion.

  I stumbled, trying to regain my footing while frowning at my grandmother. “Nora,” I said. “What have I told you about this pressure business? Look, you nearly made me break a leg.”

  “You sort of asked for this one.” She sniffed. “Gallivanting around my hallways like a married couple.”

  Despite her stuffy tone, she looked positively thrilled.

  “Actually, I’m just dragging Anthony back to the kitchen. Seems he was trying to avoid wearing a costume,” I said. “Naturally, I chased him down.”

  “Well, you’d better hurry. Clay looked as if he were about to run off in the opposite direction.” Nora shook her head. “Just think, if they split up, then my oh my, you’d be torn over which person’s back to jump on.”

  “Pity,” Anthony murmured.

  Nora clapped her hands. “I’ve prepared a little costume myself, so I’m going to go slip into it. I’ll meet you back here.”

  “Did you hear that, the two of you?” I stepped into the kitchen, pointing first at Anthony and then at Clay. “Nora’s meeting us right here. In costume. Got it?”

  Anthony looked as if he might cry. “Dare I ask what you have in mind for us?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” I smiled.

  “Bro, I think we look great as is,” Clay said, gesturing to his all black outfit, and then to Anthony’s identical one. “We match. Cool, huh?”

  Anthony’s face turned to stone. “Where do I get this costume?”

  Chapter 26

  “DO YOU FEEL TOUGH?” I asked Anthony.

  His blank face showed exactly how thrilled he was with the costume. Which was, unfortunately, not at all.

  “Come on, give me a little roar,” I said. “I’ll sing the lyrics for you. Shining, shimmering, splennnndid. Tell me, Princess...”

  A muscle in Anthony’s cheek twitched.

  “Nope? You don’t like it? Fine then, Rajah.” I patted Anthony’s head. “In case you were concerned, you make a wonderful tiger. You look just like the one in Aladdin.”

  “He does make for a pretty kitty,” Clay said.

  The room fell dangerously silent.

  “Clay...” I warned.

  “Be careful, Lacey.” Clay cowered across the room. “He looks like he might bite. I’m sorry, Anthony, that was a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “You do not look like a kitty.” I backed up a few paces to study Anthony, surveying my handiwork. “You look like a vicious tiger.”

  Unfortunately, Anthony had nixed the Tigger-from-Winnie-the-Pooh adult onesie pajamas I’d picked up from Walmart. Instead of arguing, I’d allowed him to remain in his all-black outfit, but man, had I gone to town on his face. He had more stripes than Tony the Tiger.

  “It’s all for Meg,” I said. “I’m giving her the entire cast of Aladdin.”

  “How come I got the fat one?” Clay asked. He turned his completely blue-painted face towards me.

  “The Genie is cool, Clay. He has magic powers,” I said. “Plus, Robin Williams.”

  Clay looked down. His all black outfit had turned into an all blue one, and he’d glued a goatee to his chin and a ponytail to his head. I had to admit that he made a pretty decent genie.

  “So people gotta rub my lamp to make a wish? I don’t have a lamp,” Clay said. “You forgot the lamp.”

  Anthony closed his eyes.

  I took a deep breath. “Gross, Clay.”

  “What? Shouldn’t I be carrying a lamp around?”

  I reached for the nearest jar-like object I could find, which happened to be a vase on top of the fridge. “Here, use this. I forgot a better lamp.”

  “Oh, don’t use that,” Nora’s voice trilled. “That’s Arnie’s remains. It’s an urn, dear.”

  Clay nearly dropped his magic-lamp-turned-urn. “Guess I actually don’t need a lamp.”

  I hastily returned the jar to its place of honor above the fridge, before turning to Nora. “And you are...?”

  I had no idea what sort of costume she was hoping to achieve. It looked as though she’d merely draped an oriental rug over her head.

  “I’m a magic carpet,” Nora said. “You know, I had prepped this whole eighties’ workout dancer costume – I bought the leotard, the leg warmers, the tights, everything – but when I heard you all were going as the cast of Aladdin, I wanted to participate.”

  “I think you look wonderful,” I said, though I couldn’t see Nora at all. She’d literally just set a rug on her hair. “Maybe we should cut you a head hole so you can see where you’re walking?”

  “A head hole would probably be for the best,” Nora said, bumping into the fridge on her way towards me. “Wouldn’t want to break anything.”

  At Nora’s bump, Arnie’s urn wobbled back and forth atop the fridge, dangerously close to the edge. I lunged forward, but Nora stumbled and somehow managed to crash into the fridge for a second time.

  This time, it was enough to tip the urn.

  The ‘lamp’ fell in slow motion as I dived for it, and missed.

  I’ll never understand how, but the urn had landed perfectly upright, cradled in the folds of Nora’s plush costume. Anthony and Clay eyed me with wariness as I held a shaky finger to my lips and stealthily retrieved Arnie. Nora didn’t even notice. This time, I tucked him safely away.

  “Here,” I said, turning to my grandmother. “Slip out of that for a minute.”

  Nora handed over the heavy rug, and I wondered how she managed to wear the thing. It weighed so much my shoulders ached just looking at it.

  “Is everything ready to go inside the Haunted House?” Nora asked. “The girls will be here in no time.”

  Snagging the scissors from a drawer, I glanced up at Nora just as I cut the first incision into the fabric. “This rug isn’t like, expensive, is it?”

  “No, it’s been in storage for twenty years.” Nora waved a hand.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and resumed snipping a head hole. “We’ll just have a final walk through, a quick meeting with the guards, and then move everyone into their places. We’ll be ready before the girls arrive.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. Anyone hankering for a bite to eat beforehand?” Nora asked, a hopeful smile playing on her lips.

  “No!”

  “Just ate—”

  “Not hungry—”

  The responses came fast and final, and Nora’s face fell.

  “Maybe later,” I said, handing back her carpet. “We just want to make sure we have enough time to really impress the girls.”

  “I understand,” Nora sighed. “Any news on Meg?”

  I glanced at Clay, who watched me expectantly. I’d still never told him that she had technically cancelled. “She’s not here yet, but hopefully sometime soon.”

  Thankfully, Nora distracted herself by slipping into her costume once more. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful—”

  “Stunning—”

  “Magical—”

  The responses again toppled in over one another. Nora beamed under the influx of compliments.

  “Magical, really?” She did a twirl. “Like, a magic carpet?”

  I winked. “So magical I wouldn’t be surprised if you took
off right now and flew around this room.”

  Nora curtseyed. “Thanks, dear. Now that’s an idea. Maybe I can have Carlos rig up a little something to really make me fly...” She puttered off, muttering to herself about harnesses and fairy dust.

  “So...” I ventured hesitantly. “Is anyone else starving besides me?”

  “I’m dying,” Clay moaned.

  “Maybe we can order a pizza or something?” I squinched my face. “How do we do that without offending Nora?”

  “Order from D’Amico and Sons. Ask for Ralph. Tell him it’s a Code Sausage, and he’ll deliver it to the front guards, who will sneak it inside in boxes labeled as Windex,” Anthony said in one breath. “Nora hates to clean. She’ll never touch it.”

  “Wow. Well, I can tell you’ve done this before,” I said. “What’s the number?”

  Anthony rattled off the digits without a second’s pause. “Ralph has saved my life more than once.”

  “I’m still hung up on the whole Code Sausage thing,” Clay said.

  Both Anthony and I stared straight at him.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” I said. “Gross, Clay.”

  Clay spluttered an unintelligible response.

  I shook my head. “Neither of us went there. It’s all you, cousin.”

  “Code Sausage, really? You’re kidding me. How is that not dirty but everything I say is misinterpreted?” Clay asked, throwing his arms up. “I mean, come on.”

  Anthony turned and walked out of the room.

  “Hey, don’t go anywhere, Tiger,” I said. “After I get off the phone with Ralph, we’re doing a final walk through of the event. Got it?”

  “Extra meat,” Anthony said. “Lots of it.”

  I passed on Anthony’s message to Ralph.

  “Really?” Clay asked. “No joke there, either?”

  “Don’t be a perv, Clay,” I said. “You’re the only one thinking it.”

  “Everyone in this family is crazy,” Clay mumbled. “They’re turning you nuts, Lacey. Nuts. I’m the only sane one left.”

  Chapter 27

  AFTER SNEAKILY DEVOURING the pizza, Clay, Anthony, and I rounded up the guards into one of the conference rooms on the second floor. Anthony decided to own his tiger face rather than shrink from it. He moved to the front of the room, his severe frown daring anyone to utter so much as a snicker.

  The rest of the Aladdin crew – minus Jasmine – clumped together at the front of the room. Nora gave a rousing speech about getting into character, scaring the pants off the kids, and making this the best Haunted House in the entire metro area.

  When it was my turn, I took a more practical approach to the pep talk. “Well, thank you for being here, first of all. Second, make sure you have no weapons or guns of any sort on your body. Third, no touching, grabbing, or scaring any child until they cry. That is bad.”

  One guard raised his hand. “How do we know when they’re about to cry?”

  “Tell ’em to toughen up,” another one added. “Halloween isn’t about unicorns and rainbows.”

  “Actually, it is about unicorns and rainbows for many children,” I said, waving my hands to regain the group’s attention. “Many young ladies dress up as princesses.”

  “Boys, too,” another guard chimed in from the back.

  That got everyone’s attention. Everyone’s necks whipped in the direction of the speaker, the poor guy shrinking into his chair like a wilting flower.

  “I’m j-just being fair,” he said. “It’s not like I know from experience or anything.”

  “Eyes back here.” I snapped my fingers, trying to draw the attention away from the effeminate guard. “Any last questions?”

  The only response was a whole load of vacant expressions.

  “Wonderful,” I said. “Now, I see a few of you who must have forgotten your costumes in the car. I kindly suggest you go get them.”

  “Immediately,” growled Anthony, for added emphasis.

  “And then get into your places, because we are ready to rock and roll! There will be a whistle when the last group exits the Haunted House, signaling it’s over. The lights will come on and you are free to—”

  “Join in the after-party!” Nora threw her hands in the air and jumped in front, yanking an imaginary microphone from my hands. “Surprise! As a thank you for all of your hard work, I’ve made cookies!”

  The room fell so quiet that a pin dropping would’ve echoed.

  “They’re Halloween themed.” Nora put a hand on her hip and a pout on her lips. “Don’t you people like cookies?”

  “Woohoo!” I shouted, clapping my hands with enthusiasm.

  Only a smattering of polite applause was heard while I continued to hoot and holler.

  “Well, fine. Then I suppose you won’t all enjoy the rest of the party if you don’t even like cookies.” She sounded really miffed now. “I had scheduled a caterer to come in and bring only the finest of meats, cheeses, crackers and champagne – all in a Halloween theme. But I can’t imagine any of you would eat that, if you’re not even excited by my cookies!”

  Thunderous applause interrupted her speech.

  “There we go, they must not have understood what I meant about the cookies,” Nora said under her breath to me, with a bright smile for the crowd. “That’s the right attitude.”

  “Your cookies will be a hit, I’m sure.” A hit to our dental insurance provider, maybe.

  “We’ve got karaoke, dancing, and a few other surprises. It will be a...” Nora cleared her throat. “A Monster Bash.”

  “I see what you did there.” I winked.

  “Thanks, dear,” Nora whispered. “I thought about that name for days.”

  I gave her the thumbs up. “So, everyone ready to go? Remember, guns away. Actually, let’s put them into the popcorn bowl as we head out. Everyone, deposit your weapons in this bowl.”

  I nabbed the huge popcorn bowl that sat above one of the cupboards in the conference room, empty except for a few discarded pens and pencils.

  “Thank you, thank you...” I held the bucket and stood next to the door. “Thank you. Yes, both of them, Dom. Even your ankle holster. Thank you...”

  “That’s a lot of guns.” Clay’s eyes widened after the last guard filed out. His blue-painted face crinkled in surprise. “Dang.”

  “Do you feel safe?” I asked my cousin, winking at Anthony who was pretending not to pout over in the corner.

  “Quite the opposite.” Clay shuddered. “A bunch of buff dudes walking around with bullets? Freaks me the hell out.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t have a gun to add to the collection,” I said. “I can’t do any damage.”

  “That does make me feel better.” Clay nodded. “Anyway, I can do far more damage with my computer than any of these dudes can with a gun.”

  “Really,” Anthony drawled, stepping forward. He moved his hands to his hips, the metal of his gun visible against his dark attire.

  “Er—” Clay’s face went from a deep, royal blue to a light periwinkle shade in a matter of seconds. “I meant, uh, with the exception of you.”

  Anthony gave a nod, his tiger striped face somehow only enhancing his menacing glare. Anyone else would resemble a cartoon, but Anthony looked ready to rip Clay apart.

  “You definitely don’t look cute, don’t worry,” I reassured Anthony, patting his shoulder. “Now, shall we go take our places?”

  “Is Meg coming?” Clay asked.

  “Should be.” I purposely left my answer vague, turning away as I spoke. “Let’s go, troops.”

  Chapter 28

  ONCE ANTHONY AND I settled Clay into place, situated comfortably between a Frankenstein pillow and a huge spider that sang opera on a motion sensor cue, we returned to the front door.

  “Hello, Lacey dear,” Harold said. “What are you doing here?”

  Someone must have told him that his costume as a butler wasn’t cutting it, because he’d since ditched the suit a
nd opted into a skin-tight, full-body skeleton costume. I swear, this family wore more spandex than was healthy.

  “I’m just doing a test run with Anthony. Nobody’s in the house yet, right?”

  Harold shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. The first group of Luzzi staff is scheduled to come in for a test run in twenty minutes.”

  “Great. I just want to walk through first, make sure everything’s in place for the test run,” I said, grabbing Anthony’s hand and pulling him outside. “We’re going to start from the very top. Dry run, Harold, got it?”

  “Got it, ma’am.” He gave a bow.

  “Harold, skeletons don’t bow. This is a dry run.” I shook my head. “At least put on a spooky-haunted-house voice.”

  “Can the English accent sound spooky?” he asked with curiosity.

  I shrugged. “Do the best you can. Ready? Go.”

  Pulling Anthony back another few feet, we surveyed the front of the estate. It had transformed from a regal, well-kept manor into a dangerous, abandoned-looking building. The witch’s brew spewed smoke around the entrance, a strobe light flashed on a fake graveyard to the left of the door, and a hand hung creepily out of the front window.

  I pulled Anthony tighter.

  “Are you scared?” he whispered against my head.

  “No,” I lied. “Just an excuse to be close to you.”

  “Sure...and I’ll pretend to believe that.” He put an arm around me, stepping forward.

  “Ring the doorbell,” I whispered. “I’m too scared to touch it.”

  Anthony pressed the button. I was more than a little impressed he didn’t even flinch when a blood-curdling scream sounded throughout the house.

  “Nice touch,” he murmured.

  Harold whipped the front door open. “Good evening, friends.”

  I nearly burst out laughing at his fake American accent. “That’s the worst accent I’ve ever heard, Harold. Worse than Meg’s British one.”

  “I’m not from here,” he said, his voice cross. Throwing a few suckers in our direction, he turned up his nose. “Here, have your stupid lollies.”

 

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